


Faces

by coffeehousehaunt



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: A little bit of blood, F/F, Fae!sex, Porn Battle, Semi-established relationship, Wings, strap-on sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She doesn't do this for just anyone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faces

**Author's Note:**

> For the Porn Battle prompt: "Bo/Tamsin, wings, power, blood".

She doesn't do this for just anyone. Let them get behind her, give them her blind side. Bo pushes gently at the small of Tamsin's back, and Tamsin crawls forward onto the bed. Lies on her stomach, propped up on her forearms while Bo's eyes devour her, without so much as a quip. Bo feels heat rush through her as she rakes her gaze over Tamsin's form--god, she can _see_ Tamsin's sex swollen and slick from here, and she hasn't even touched her yet. Her clit throbs against the base of the strap-on. Tamsin definitely wouldn't do this for just anyone. 

But she'll do it for Bo. 

Bo waits for a minute before sliding onto the bed behind her. She's not usually one for waiting, but it's part of this game, and as long as she's waiting, so is Tamsin. 

And looking at Tamsin, waiting, compliant, blonde hair spilling loose down her back and the nervous play of muscles under her skin, waiting for _Bo_ \--that's its own reward. 

But patience really isn't her strong suit. 

Bo crawls up Tamsin's body, trailing nails up her back as she goes. Slides her hand into Tamsin's loose hair and pushes it up and out of the way, her head forward. Tamsin just does as directed, and Bo has to bite her lip at that; how she just _obeys_. She settles her body down against Tamsin's, mindful of the strap-on, and leans in. 

She starts at Tamsin's ear--left side, rolls and catches the stud earring in the lobe between her teeth. Tug. Tamsin shifts, ripples--impatient, aroused, nervous. She doesn't like to be exposed for too long, even with Bo. The faster it's over, the less she has to think about it, to hang there and wait, even though Bo's pressed naked against her back, covering her. Bo closes her hand in Tamsin's hair, but doesn't pull or clench, just holds. Drops a gentle kiss just behind her ear and runs her tongue around the edge of the shell until she stills. 

Slowly, she moves lower, lips and tongue tracing patterns on that soft skin. She can hear Tamsin's breath picking up, stray locks of hair falling against the sheets as Tamsin tilts her head to bare more of her throat. Cords of muscle and tendon slide under her teeth, and Tamsin's breath hitches. She soothes the skin with her tongue. Tamsin's body heats beneath hers. Bo sucks hard enough to leave a mark, and Tamsin gasps, tenses. Bo stays there, lets it build, until Tamsin's arched back against her and Bo has to press hard to hold her down, before she lets go with a growl low in her throat, the rush of power coiling just under her skin. 

It's gonna be some mark. 

She leaves a trail of kisses and bite marks down the top of that shoulder, until Tamsin presses back against Bo with every swipe of her tongue over her raw skin. Then she works her way over to the other side. 

Tamsin knows what's coming long before Bo does it; her head falls forward onto the mattress. Somehow, Bo still manages to take her time getting there. She starts out too light, too soft; a gentle drag of her lips across Tamsin's shoulders. Tamsin shivers, presses her head further down, offering Bo her back, her shoulders. Honestly, seeing Tamsin _this_ submissive--she didn't think it was possible. Another growl gathers in her belly. 

Bo traces the line just inside of one shoulder blade with her tongue, not a mark between them to show what's underneath, inside, wherever it is they go. Tamsin's breath catches, and she presses up into the touch. And that could _almost_ be a whine that chokes in her throat when Bo pulls back. A smirk twists Bo's lips back over her teeth, and she can't quite stop the instinctive push of her hips forward as she leans in. 

She scrapes her teeth along the sensitive skin there, and that's definitely a moan that catches in her throat. Scrape, and hold, and Tamsin grinds her hips against the mattress. She bites down hard and sucks at the skin, and Tamsin claws at the sheets. Bo works those invisible lines with her mouth until Tamsin is writhing beneath her and pressing back against Bo, is moaning and whining and sliding the length of her sex against the strap-on, between her legs but not inside her, not yet. Is begging with her whole body. 

Finally, when Tamsin sounds half-crazed with need, Bo straightens and leans over to grab some lube from the stand next to the bed. While she's slicking it onto the dildo, she moves down Tamsin's body, kissing and biting as she goes, her free hand settling under Tamsin's hip, fingers pressing. Tamsin whimpers and lifts her hips. Bo grazes her teeth over the skin at the base of her spine, and slides the fingers of her slick hand along Tamsin's sex, parting her. Tamsin makes a soft, needy sound, and between that and the wet heat around her fingers, Bo's patience shreds. Once she's lined up, she pushes her hips forward hard. 

Tamsin's hands fist in the blankets and she rocks back against Bo as Bo takes her. A low, wanton groan tears out of her throat. She's all gold, in this light. Bo starts slow, watching the muscles in Tamsin's back ripple as she fucks her. Tamsin's moans grow more urgent, and Bo picks up the pace, until her hips are slamming into Tamsin's and Tamsin's choked cries are filling the room and Bo can feel her body tightening. Tamsin shudders, hips going liquid in Bo's hands, and Bo holds her steady, still moving, feeling the muscles shaking under her fingers. 

Bo slows, and leans forward, staying inside Tamsin, their hips grinding forward and into the mattress. Tamsin's legs slide back and lock around hers, pulling her closer, deeper. Her mouth drags up Tamsin's spine, tasting skin and sweat. When she settles against Tamsin's back, she lets herself reach for Tamsin's hand. She squeezes gently, and Tamsin grips back--another thing Tamsin does without a quip or a weird look, now. They have to stretch and twist a little awkwardly to kiss because of the height difference, but Tamsin kisses Bo like she needs her to breathe, and it draws a moan out of Bo's throat. 

Bo breaks the kiss and starts to move her hips again; Tamsin rocks and clenches her thighs around Bo. 

Bo braces herself on the arm and hand entwined with Tamsin's, and pushes Tamsin's hair forward again, mostly just to feel it. Kisses the nape of her neck, her shoulders, down her spine, to the sides, slides her tongue through the space between her shoulder blades until Tamsin's head drops forward again and her moans vibrate through her body against Bo's mouth. She feels it like a charge in the air, faintly. Her tongue presses, and she can feel it--a ridge. Tamsin's breathing is ragged again. Bo shifts back a little and drags her fingers down the line of it. Of them--on both sides. 

She used to think they only came out when Tamsin was fighting, using her powers. But even just the phrase "using her powers" is a disservice to what they are. They're part of her--and Bo, too--like a limb. Or, even better, a heartbeat. 

She presses her mouth back to that ridge, works it with her teeth and tongue as she thrusts with her hips--but not roughly, not in any part of it. She's in awe of what happens next. 

Tamsin's body is going taut again underneath her, her cunt tightening sharply. Bo is aware that her own thighs are slick, too, the base of the dildo rocking against her clit and just the motion itself--something primal about the hips, feeling some part of her sliding inside Tamsin's body, just the _idea_ of penetrating Tamsin never gets old--is enough to get her aching, but not quite enough to come. She slides an arm around Tamsin's hips and braces them both, gets her shoulders clear. She keeps her mouth on Tamsin's shoulders, though, switching to the other side, until Tamsin is making desperate noises and Bo feels the muscles in her abdomen tremble. 

It has to hurt--the skin splits and there's a thin ring of blood at the base of them as they unfold, droplets caught on the edges of the feathers. Bo explores the new flesh with her mouth, tenderly, hungrily, tastes iron--doesn't care. As if it could be disgusting, when the room feels like a lightning strike waiting to happen. When the body beneath her is still clenching. When the sounds Tamsin makes under Bo's mouth are part disbelief. 

This close, buried inside her, she can feel it all along her skin--Tamsin's power, her own power--something ancient and vast and intoxicatingly deep. She should drown, but instead, Bo can feel her blood heat, the hot surge of her power holding the line of her skin, spilling into Tamsin, heating the air until it's almost too thick to breathe, coils of it rising off their sweat-soaked skin into the polarized air. At an impasse. 

Bo doesn't stop, this time, doesn't give her a moment, hunger flaring at the taste of blood and power. She surges forward, opens her mouth and draws. Tamsin's head turns to the side as chi flows out of her mouth, and Bo can see the sunken shadows around her eyes, darkened by her power, the withered hollowness under her cheekbones, fire where her eyes should be, until her face looks skull-like. Tamsin tilts her head forward, like she wants her hair to fall over her face, but it's already falling to the other side. It seems impossible that a face like that could hold an emotion, but Bo thinks she sees hesitation. She knows she sees nervousness in the line of her shoulders. 

Supposedly, according to Trick, a Valkyrie's "true face", whatever that means, is hideous. Terrifying. Capable of breaking a man's sanity (emphasis on _man_ , she'd thought to herself). It's certainly not human, not Hollywood-style beauty, not remotely soft. But she could be an angel. A vengeful one. 

In the stories, they're the monsters--the Fae, that is. And the two of them. Bo used to think that was a bad thing. Consuming and inexplicable and inexorable. Of course it would be hideous. 

It's not. It's elemental. She looks into those eyes, all fathomless black and defiant flare, and she wants to consume her whole, absolute, from the bottom of her being; she doesn't think she ever could drink her dry. Wants to slam their bodies together until whatever charge there is between them goes off like a bomb. She reaches up and fists her hand in Tamsin's hair, stretches along her body, skin and feathers sliding against her breasts, and drinks deep as she rocks her hips against Tamsin and Tamsin rolls her hips back against Bo's. The tension melts from that impossible face. 

It's slower, this time--but it's anything but gentle. Heat rises in Bo's belly at the taste of Tamsin's chi; power, her power. Tension. She pushes into Tamsin, the muscles of her hips burning with the strain and her cunt white-hot with need, and the taste of Tamsin's chi is just enough as her muscles start to fail. The hunger bursts out of her skin and runs over every inch of her, runs through Tamsin. She pulls from Tamsin until it's done, and Tamsin collapses on the bed, panting, but still moving against her, wanting. She's close again. 

There's nothing remotely human about this. Except--

Tamsin comes apart, and shows her real face, _all_ her real faces. She doesn't do that for just anyone.


End file.
